


Hail, Arthur

by kimirce



Series: the rightwise king born [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Excalibur, Gen, Golden Age, Legends, M/M, POV Outsider, The Sword in the Stone, Uther POV, actually the sword in the stone is Caliburn, arthurian legends, outside pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:35:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24443701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimirce/pseuds/kimirce
Summary: A sword in a stone has appeared on Camelot's lands, much to Uther's discontent.
Relationships: Arthur Pendragon & Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), implied relationship only
Series: the rightwise king born [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765372
Comments: 9
Kudos: 218





	Hail, Arthur

Uther strode out of his tent on the hillside, thoroughly disgusted. The promise of a king who would rule all Albion – if only he could pull the sword out of that blasted stone – might be a heady one, but such a thing was not possible without _magic_. If the damn thing had not appeared on his own lands, drawing hundreds of noblemen and kings from far beyond Camelot, he would not be here.

As it was, he wanted to run off the lot of fools milling around the sword and then destroy it. It made him – _nervous_ – furious, to have magic so blatantly present. He glared down at them, contemplating if Camelot had strength enough in knights to drive them all off. Unfortunately, he had already decided to wait it out, on the advice of his council. In all likelihood, everyone would get bored or frustrated and leave without issue, since it seemed the sword was stubbornly stuck. Still, Uther was tense with frustration.

He had forbidden all the men of Camelot to try their hands. This was nothing more than a trick, he was sure. There was no true High King. But the temptation – well. Even he wondered. To be declared the king who would unite dozens of warring kingdoms would satisfy his pride and Camelot’s, and the prestige it would bring…

But it was just another of magic’s false promises.

The vale where the sword stood was filled with men, wearing the colors of nearly every lord and king within two weeks riding distance. More flooded in every day.

The red capes of his knights were visible on the edges of the crowd, or mingling with the other nobles in the camps. _Good,_ Uther thought.

At the very least, they would return home with much news. He was glad to get something out of this nonsense.

A flash of gold caught his eye amidst the men surrounding the sword. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on that spot – _Arthur._

Arthur’s blond hair caught the pale light from the cloudy sky, gleaming briefly as he stepped up to the sword.

Uther’s lips tightened in rage. He had forbidden all the men of Camelot to try for the sword – including Arthur. Especially Arthur.

His muscles tensed. He wanted to shout, to tell Arthur to stop. But he could not in front of all these men. If he made it clear that his own son acted in direct contravention of his orders, the wolves would scent blood.

The crowd hardly paid attention as yet another man stepped up to the plinth, for surely, he would fail. They waited impatiently for their own turns. But Uther’s eyes were fixed on his son as he laid his hand on the hilt. How dare Arthur embarrass Camelot so?

Oddly, Arthur did not seem to be looking at the enchanted blade before him. Uther followed his gaze, which led to a young man at the front of the crowd, directly opposite Arthur.

It was his son’s dim and incompetent manservant, Merlin. Merlin looked back steadily, meeting Arthur’s eyes. There was a look on his face that Uther had never seen him wear before. Instead of a foolish grin or blank cluelessness, Merlin’s countenance exuded a quiet certainty.

The men behind Arthur were getting restless. He was taking too long to make his attempt. One man jeered. Arthur ignored them, watching Merlin.

Merlin nodded slightly. Uther saw Arthur’s shoulders rise and fall. One deep breath.

Then, Arthur tightened his grip on the sword, a single hand on its hilt, and lifted.

The sword rose.

Arthur drew it out of the stone as though it had merely been in a well-oiled scabbard. Just yesterday, Uther had seen a man the size of a bear yank on it with two hands and all his strength, and it had not moved an inch.

A hush fell over the clearing – shock. An instant later, sound erupted. People shouted and argued, protesting fervently. Uther could do naught but stare, limbs frozen with shock.

A man a head taller than Arthur came up behind him and started shouting, gesticulating violently. Arthur remained calm, lifting his hand in a placating gesture.

Another man, with dark hair in scraggly braids, took the sword from Arthur, and shoved it back into the stone. He pulled on it, straining mightily, but the blade was once more stuck fast.

The large man came up to take a turn, and failed just as handily. Several others insisted on having a try, as the clamor swelled. A dozen more men stepped up, and the sword did not move.

Uther noticed that Merlin stood calmly amidst the crowd, a faint, proud smile on his face as he watched Arthur.

Finally, the disgruntled noblemen allowed Arthur to step forward once more. This time, all eyes were trained on Arthur, and a tense silence filled the clearing.

Arthur laid his right hand on the hilt once more. Uther saw that his eyes were still on his manservant.

Once more, the blade slid free without resistance.

This time, no voice rent the silence.

Arthur was still a moment, standing straight and tall. Then, his movement sure and unhurried, he lifted the sword high.

As the blade pointed toward the heavens, the sky broke open. Sunlight poured between the clouds to illuminate Arthur, gilding his hair and skin and gleaming over his armor, leaving the rest of the world in gloom.

Uther’s breath caught. The faces of those around him were awestruck.

The moment stretched. Albion had claimed her future king in the form of a golden prince, and he was glorious to behold.

Uther was unsure how long the valley stood in silence, admiring Arthur lit in brilliance. He could not have spoken to break the moment if he tried. His voice had left him.

And then, one voice did break the silence, ringing across hundreds of men, deep and strong.

“Hail, Arthur!” It was Merlin. Pride shone unfettered in his eyes.

Others took up the cry.

“Hail, Arthur! Hail, Arthur!”

Uther heard the men next to him shout. In moments, hundreds of voices together swelled. Uther could feel the vibration in his chest. The shouts were exultant, all the men gripped by a collective rising joy.

“Hail, Arthur!”

Uther stared, the only silent man among hundreds as they greeted the High King of Albion. His son.

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty short. I kind of want to write a longer version of this from Arthur's POV, but right now this is what I have written. Might make a proper series of it at some point, though.
> 
> I have more than a dozen partly-written Merlin fics just hanging out on my laptop from when I went a bit crazy writing them last fall. It's about 21,000 words total at the moment. I'll get around to posting them all eventually, I just don't want to do it all at once. In the meantime, please tell me what you think in the comments or come hit me up on [tumblr](https://kimirce.tumblr.com/) if you want to gush about Merlin!


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